Chapter 4 - SALVATORE’S LAST PLAN
In 1998, Salvatore Moretti wanted out.
Not from his family.
From the empire.
Federal pressure was tightening.
Rivals were circling.
Salvatore had also discovered several men inside his organization were trafficking narcotics through businesses he had forbidden them to use.
He planned to fake his death.
Walter arranged money.
Nathan created a hidden identification piece inside Eleanor’s necklace.
The plan required Salvatore to leave Boston and enter federal protection under another identity.
“What went wrong?” Anthony asked.
Walter looked sick.
“Someone replaced the device.”
“What device?”
“The bomb.”
The explosion was supposed to destroy the car after Salvatore left it.
Instead, it detonated early.
Salvatore died.
Walter pulled Anthony from the garage seconds before a second blast.
“Who changed it?”
“I never knew.”
“You had twenty-six years.”
“I suspected.”
“Who?”
Walter looked at him.
“Your mother.”
Anthony’s face became dangerous.
“Careful.”
“I said suspected.”
“My mother loved him.”
“Yes.”
“Then why?”
“Because Salvatore planned to leave without telling her.”
Anthony stared.
Walter explained.
Salvatore believed Eleanor and Anthony would be safer if they genuinely thought he was dead.
Eleanor discovered part of the plan.
Walter feared she might have interfered.
But Nathan never believed it.
Nathan kept investigating.
Then, eleven months earlier, Nathan Bennett died.
Heart attack.
At seventy-eight.
Or so everyone thought.
Emma had been the one to find him at his workbench.
Anthony asked for Nathan’s medical records.
The report contained something strange.
Nathan had a tiny puncture wound beneath his left arm.
Dismissed as an insulin injection.
Nathan was not diabetic.
Grace went pale.
“My father was murdered.”
Emma heard from the stairs.
“No.”
Grace turned.
Emma stood there.
Tears filled her eyes.
“No.”
Grace ran to her.
Emma did not cry immediately.
She looked at Anthony.
“Find out who did it.”
Anthony saw something that frightened him.
Not because she was threatening.
Because she was twelve and trying desperately not to become a child in front of adults.
He crouched.
“I will.”
Emma’s voice cracked.
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Don’t promise me revenge.”
Anthony stared.
“My grandpa hated revenge.”
“What do you want me to promise?”
“The truth.”
Anthony held her gaze.
May you like
“That I can promise.”
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